Making Do With A Lie
by twistedcommunication
Summary: Marissa's with Ryan, but she's still thinking about Alex...
1. Chapter 1

AN: I wrote another fic! Look! It's kinda different to Walking A Thin Line, but I hope you like it anyway. I'll be updating a little less regularly now, considering I am about to return to the hell that I call school, but I won't be abandoning either of my fics. And now that I've bored you all to tears, you can start reading the story.

"What are you doing back here," asked Marissa, not sure why she had approached Alex.

" Had some things to take care of," replied Alex, the warmth that she used to have when talking to Marissa now completely gone.

Marissa was surprised by the coldness of Alex's answer.

" And now you're leaving again?"

Alex nodded. " There's nothing here for me anymore."

" Alex…"

" I don't need to hear it, Marissa."

" But…."

" Can I ask you something?"

" Sure."

" Are you back with Ryan?"

Marissa nodded, not meeting Alex's eyes. Alex would never understand.

" Oh," replied Alex. " So, you know, did you ever have any feelings for me at all?" she asked in a casual tone, while both of them knew the question was anything but casual.

Marissa looked at the ground, finding that it was easier than meeting Alex's intense stare. She didn't know how to answer. She didn't want Alex thinking that she hadn't meant anything, but at the same time, she didn't want to bring those feelings up. She was with Ryan now. She could hardly go telling someone else that she loved them.

Alex took Marissa's prolonged silence and failure to meet her eyes to mean that she had felt nothing for her. She looked away, tears pricking her eyelids. She blinked them back, determined not to cry over this girl any more than she already had.

When Marissa finally looked up, Alex was gone. She wanted to run after her, tell her just how much she had meant to her, how much she still meant to her. But it was like she had become glued to this spot, staring out at the ocean.

Sometimes she hated the beach. It reminded her of Alex, and while that would have been a good thing, it now only served to remind her of how wrong she had gone with that relationship. She hated to be reminded of her failures. She didn't like to think of Alex that way, though. It wasn't her fault Marissa suddenly couldn't handle their relationship.

Instead she had gone back to Ryan, regretting it more and more every day. She had told Summer once that she missed him every day, but she was wrong. She didn't need him. If Summer asked her now if she missed Alex, her answer would be every minute. And she'd mean it.

The only reason she was with Ryan was to take her mind off Alex. He was an easy choice. It saved her from becoming involved with someone new. But it didn't stop her from thinking about Alex, like she had intended it to. She kept persisting with the relationship, though, hoping that eventually it wouldn't be Alex staring back at her every time she closed her eyes.

Being with Ryan stopped people from thinking that she was missing Alex. It allowed people to say that it was just a phase. She allowed people to say it was just a phase. Only because it made all of her feelings easier to deal with. Phases had to end sometime, right?

Then Alex was just _there_ and she realised she was fooling herself. She'd know it all along, but what that meeting had done was to make the thought louder, clearer. If it was just a whisper at first, it was now screaming in her head. She let the screaming continue.

"_Sorry if I hurt you." _It kept repeating in her head. She wanted to say it again, only this time without the _if._ She knew she had hurt Alex. She may have been able to stop herself from crying earlier, but Marissa had caught the pain in her eyes. She wanted to tell her she was sorry, beg for forgiveness. Start over. Only she didn't.

Alex hadn't been able to stay there any longer. Marissa's lack of words just then had hurt her more than any words had ever done. She felt used. In a different way than she had felt with Jodie. That was just her body. It was nothing compared to her feelings. She didn't understand. She probably never would.

She wanted to scream at Marissa about how it was _wrong._ About how people shouldn't be allowed to treat other people that way. She didn't, and she knew why. Marissa not feeling the same way didn't lessen her own feelings. Now they were just wrapped up with other emotions, just as intense, but in a different way. They were never supposed to be negative.

She had wanted to Marissa to come after her, all the while knowing she wouldn't. It hurt. It stung that all the people who had told her Marissa and Ryan should have been together were right. She had to get out of here. It wasn't doing her any good, being here. She was supposed to be getting over her, not thinking about her every minute of every day. She knew she was wasting her time, because she'd never be over her. Even if she had never felt anything for her.

She had lied, at the bonfire. She didn't have anywhere to go. The thought of her parents accepting her back was laughable. Marissa wouldn't know that, though, because she hadn't taken her time to ask. She'd been moving around a lot over the last couple of months. The feeling of restlessness wouldn't leave her.

She turned away from the beach, walking slowly towards her car. It was time for her to get over this, at least to the point where she felt normal again. Where she didn't keep choking on her words because she was thinking about her. Time for a new start.

Ryan sometimes asked Marissa is she was okay. Her response was the same every time: " I'm fine." In her head, the only thought lately, aside from Alex, was that she was not okay. She was nowhere near okay. Ryan had always been oblivious to her feelings, she realised. She was drinking more than ever now; only she was taking more care to hide it than she had done before.

Summer saw that something was wrong, but she didn't connect it to Alex. Marissa looked happy with Ryan. Only Summer wasn't looking closely enough. The fake smiles, the forced laughs. The constant look of discomfort shining through her eyes. It wasn't that Summer was a bad friend, it was just, she was preoccupied.

Sometimes Marissa worried, that Ryan had to realise when she was looking at him, she was thinking about Alex. When she was kissing him, it was Alex's lips she felt pressed against her own. That their relationship was all in his head, and in her head, was an entirely different one.

Then she realised. He'd never notice. He had what he wanted, why should it matter what she wanted? That's the way it was with him, and in a way, made it easier to be with him. Until he told her that he loved her, and she was forced to look away, replacing his image with Alex, before she could say it back.

Then she felt like she was betraying Alex, because she had never told her, not even once. She wanted to, but she couldn't. Just like earlier today, when she found herself rooted to the spot when all she wanted to do was to run after Alex. Do something about her feelings, for once. But instead, she made do. She made do with a lie.


	2. Chapter 2

Alex couldn't believe how badly that had gone. She was lying in her apartment, unable to sleep. She had gone back for Marissa, and she had returned with less than she started out with. Marissa was further away from her than she had realised.

She started out with a lie. " Had some things to take care of." She didn't. She'd gone back there hoping Marissa wouldn't have moved on.

She had though, and the image of Marissa with Ryan, kissing Ryan, touching Ryan, was burning her eyelids. Every time she thought of Marissa now it was with Ryan attached, his face mocking her over Marissa's shoulder.

It wasn't supposed to be this way. People weren't supposed to be made like paper, so they just fell apart when they were ripped. The backdrop of thunder and lightning seemed awfully appropriate now. The crashing sound reminded Alex of how her heart was breaking, the lightning ripping the sky apart reminding her of how her heart was being torn.

She turned over. Storms had always induced this restlessness in her, sometimes in a good way, sometimes in a bad way. This time, was the worse she'd ever been. How many times could one girl break her heart? She honestly felt that every time she thought of her, her heart was breaking all over again. She wondered how many pieces it would be left in, and who would help her to fix it.

She wanted it to be Marissa, that was her original intention today. Jodie, much to her surprise, had been great to her, proclaiming that she was over her, and she wanted things to be the way they were when they were friends. So far, it was working. Then again, she thought the same thing about her and Marissa's relationship. Jodie was the one to tell her to go back. She'd thought it was a good idea at the time. She laughed at that thought, her laugh sounding harsh and unexpected. Now wasn't a time for laughing, it seemed.

She'd hope Marissa was happy with Ryan, if she were any other ex. But it was Marissa, and Alex couldn't just dismiss her that way. She couldn't hope that she was happy with Ryan, either, because all she could think about was how he wasn't good enough for her.

" Apparently I was the one not good enough for her," she said out loud, bitterly.

" Bitterness doesn't suit you, Alex," said Jodie from her position in the doorway.

" It didn't go well?"

" What do you think, Jodie?" spat out Alex.

" I'm sorry," said Jodie, genuinely. " I really am. I hate seeing you like this, Alex."

" I hate feeling like this," said Alex.

" So what happened?"  
" I really don't want to talk about it," said Alex, turning away from Jodie, effectively dismissing her. Jodie looked a little upset. Despite the fact that their relationship had been a complete disaster, Alex was still her friend. She left silently, looking back at Alex one more time, to see her huddled as close to the wall as possible, undoubtedly trying to block out the world.

In Newport, Marissa was doing the same; only she was trying to block out the word with alcohol. She was sat on the beach, in the spot where she and Alex had shared their first kiss, the necklace dangling awkwardly from her wrist, spinning in circles, like she imagined her feelings would be if they were visible.

Summer was approaching from a distance, Marissa noticed. She couldn't deal with this. She wanted to stand up and run away, but she knew she wouldn't get anywhere.

" Coop, I've been looking for you everywh…"she trailed off as she saw the bottle of Vodka carelessly held in Marissa's left hand, almost as if she didn't quite realise it was there.

" Drinking alone, again, Marissa?"

Marissa looked at her, her eyes bloodshot and heavy, partly due to the alcohol, the look completed by her tears. They had seemed endless tonight; she'd felt like she'd never stop crying.

" I miss her," she said, so quietly that Summer almost didn't hear it.

Summer sat down beside her, gently taking the bottle of alcohol from her unresisting grasp. She'd been wondering when Marissa would finally mention her.

" Why now?" asked Summer. " I thought you were moving on."

Marissa shook her head. " Summer, I never moved an inch," she said, staring out at the ocean once more. She wished Alex would come back, like the sea returned, its presence overwhelming. That was how Marissa had felt. Like the beach in relation to the sea. Not anymore, because Alex was like a tide that was always turning away from her.

" You and Ryan?" asked Summer gently.

Marissa closed her eyes.

" All I can think about is her."

" Do you love her?"

Marissa rubbed her hand across her eyes tiredly. She was tired, tired of pretending. She nodded slowly, feeling that it was not enough to describe how she felt for Alex, she added, " She's my everything. Was my everything," she amended.

" I saw her today."

" What happened?"

" I screwed up, like I always do," she said.

" What are you going to do?" asked Summer.

" Nothing," said Marissa, standing up and brushing the sand off herself. " We didn't have this conversation, right, Sum?"

" Coop…"

" Right, Sum?" Marissa repeated.

" Fine," sighed Summer. She'd deal with this later; Marissa could have her way for now.

Marissa looked at where she'd been sat once more.

" That's where she first kissed me," she said in a low tone.

Summer looked surprised. She thought Marissa's words meant that this discussion was over. Glad Marissa was opening up, though, she looked at her encouragingly.

" And he makes me feel empty, Sum," she said.

" Why do you stay with him?"

" It's safe. And I can pretend that it's her that's touching me, her telling me that she loves me, if I close my eyes and think hard enough."

Summer looked at her, saddened by the comment. She wanted Marissa to be genuinely happy, not to make do with what she now realised to be a lie.


	3. Chapter 3

Summer had taken Marissa home, making sure there was no alcohol available to her before leaving. She hated to leave Marissa when she was like that, so broken, but at the same time she couldn't handle it. She didn't know what to do, how to fix it.

She felt the guilt over that eating at her. When Marissa had tried to kill herself, she hadn't been expecting it. She should have been though. She should know when Marissa was genuinely happy, and the difference between that and when she was like this.

She turned around, going back inside. She couldn't leave Marissa alone now. It wouldn't be right. When she entered Marissa's room, it was to find her sprawled across the bed, in an obviously uneasy sleep. She lay beside her, reaching out to her to try and calm her. Marissa relaxed into her, with just that little bit of permanent tension remaining a part of her.

Summer noticed that Marissa's fist was clenched around something, and gently opened her fingers to see what it was. The necklace fell out, falling gracefully onto the bed, in way Summer could never imagine Marissa falling. When Marissa fell, it was always with a sense of urgency, of chaos even, underlining her being.

She picked the necklace up, looking at it more closely. She'd never seen it before. Marissa stirred, her fingers seeming to stretch out and reach for the necklace. Summer replaced it within her grasp, thinking it might be of some comfort to Marissa. She'd ask her about it tomorrow.

Jodie had returned to Alex, not wanting to leave her alone. She knew, as much as Alex pretended not to need anybody, she was vulnerable in a way that wasn't obvious. When she got there however, it was to find the house in total darkness, Alex's spare key removed from under the mat. She clearly didn't want visitors, and Jodie would respect that.

Alex was, once again, lying down, but not sleeping. She had heard Jodie come by, but she couldn't bear the thought of leaving the comfort of the darkness she had surrounded herself with. She'd never been so torn up over a girl before. She didn't think she ever would be. But Marissa got under her skin, refusing to leave, no matter how hard Alex tried to cut herself off from those feelings.

Her eyes burned with the sting of unshed tears. She was sick of constantly being on the verge of crying. She wanted to scream until her voice was hoarse, just to see if it would release these feelings. She wanted to hit out at the nearest objects just to make her pain real, and not something that was crowding her head. She didn't do any of those things, though, instead clinging to her sheets as if they could save her from herself.

Marissa had woken to find Summer gently holding her, soothing her. The light shone brightly through the window, a stark contrast to her feelings this morning. She remembered her conversation with Summer last night. She'd made a mistake, sharing her feelings, she thought now. She turned over to look at Summer, who was watching her, concern etching her face.

"Are you okay?" she asked softly.

Marissa looked her, giving her a weak smile.

" I'll be fine," she replied.

Summer shook her head almost imperceptibly. That wasn't the right answer. It wasn't honest, and they both knew it.

" Marissa…."

" Honestly, I'm fine," she said, getting up and getting out of bed slowly. The necklace was still wrapped around her wrist, glinting in the morning sunlight. She wished her feelings would bounce off of her as easily as the light bounced off the necklace.

" Marissa, please. Just talk to me."

" And tell you what, Summer? That I can't breathe because she left me with this pain? That every time I close my eyes I hope I won't have to open them again? That I'm a failure and I didn't deserve her anyway?" Tell me, Summer, what am I supposed to say?"

" That's a start," said Summer quietly. " I can't help you if I don't know what's wrong, Marissa."

" I don't need your help," said Marissa, leaving the room and locking the bathroom door behind her.

She stood under the shower, wishing that the water would wash away everything inside her. She sank to the floor, letting the spray cover her, wondering how long it would be before she would stop hating the mirror because it showed her a faded image of herself.

When she finally emerged from the bathroom, Summer had left, leaving her a note.

" Coop, I know I should have been there before, and I'm sorry. I want to help you now, I hate to see what you're doing to yourself," she read. She crumpled the note in her fist; it was time to start pretending again. Ryan would be here later, she needed to have her mask in place.

Later, he was there, and she was dreading spending this time with him. Emptiness is better than pain, she reminded herself forcefully, as she greeted him with a kiss that felt awkward to her. Not just awkward, but wrong. They didn't fit together, maybe they were never supposed to.

He smiled at her; she pretended to smile back, frowning on the inside. He looked at her for a second, before saying,  
" Are we just going to stand here all day, or can I come in?"

Marissa moved out of the way wordlessly. As she did so, Ryan's eyes were drawn to the necklace at her throat. He didn't remember seeing that one before. He never usually noticed small details like this, but there was something about it that made it stand out. Maybe it was the way Marissa kept touching it, as if to check the necklace was still there.

" That necklace, where did it come from?" he asked.

Marissa's eyes darkened a shade before she shrugged it off.

" It's old," she said. " Haven't you seen it before?" Her words were casual, and although she could hear a different tone underlying them, Ryan didn't seem to notice. Alex would have. Alex noticed every little thing about her.

Sometimes she would lay and watch Alex sleep, and the sun catching her hair in the morning would remind Marissa of how beautiful she was. She had never wanted to just watch Ryan sleeping, even during those rare moments she had actually been happy with him. That was all before Alex, though. Now, just the thought of being anywhere near a bed with him made her feel sick.

She knew she was going to have to do it soon, however. It wouldn't be long before he began to question why they weren't, and she had to do everything she could to keep up this pretence. If she kept it up, maybe it would become real someday, and she wouldn't be able to call it making do with a lie anymore.


	4. Chapter 4

Part 4

He had her pressed against the bedroom wall, his hands moving over her body urgently. Roughly. She closed her eyes tight, hoping that when she opened them he'd be gone and this would just be a dream. She wanted to wake up with Alex beside her. Her eyes jerked open as he pulled her closer, the sense of urgency in his actions increasing. He pulled at the hem of her shirt, beginning to lift it away from her body. She took a step back.

" What's the matter?" he asked impatiently. In her head he didn't have a name. He was just there, like gum that sticks to a shoe, and keeps on sticking no matter how hard you try to shake it off.

" Nothing," she said, looking over his shoulder at a spot on the far wall and telling herself to focus on it. He reached for her shirt again, and this time she let him pull it over her head, and push her forcefully backwards, toward the bed.

She was lying underneath him, his weight pressing down on her. She wasn't feeling anything. She thought she'd at least feel the heat from his body, but she felt cold. His movements, although slower, retained their sense of urgency. She bit her lip to keep from screaming that she didn't want this. He took it to mean something different, and his hands continued their exploration more rapidly now, pulling at the rest of her clothes.

She let him continue, feeling disgusted at herself. He kissed her neck, running his tongue over her collarbone. It felt rough, and she couldn't help put compare it to Alex, who'd always been so gentle, soft. She tried to focus on that, but the image of Alex kept fading, remaining just out of her grasp. Instead, she was left with reality. Him.

" I love you," he said, looking into her eyes.

She couldn't respond with the words he wanted to hear, so instead she kissed him, smiling as if his words meant something to her. He didn't notice her hesitation, too wrapped up in his own feelings. She let him push her back onto the bed, closing her eyes and trying to block out the world once more. She wished she had gotten drunk before doing this.

The next morning, she awoke to his arms wrapped tightly around her. It made her think of yesterday, when it had been Summer's arms around her, more loosely, more comfortingly. His arms made her feel trapped. She thought back to last night, his body covering hers, and she wanted to be sick. She tried to move out of his embrace, but found it impossible. She kept telling herself it would get better eventually, because she didn't think she could feel any worse. Things had to improve, they always did.

He was beginning to wake. She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply, before turning to him, her fake smile plastered onto her face. He leaned in to kiss her, missing the shadow that crossed her face as he did so.

" Morning," he said, smiling. A genuine smile, not like her pretence. She had different smiles, all for different occasions. Most of them were fake. Not as fake as this one, though, where it looked like it didn't belong on her face. She wondered when he had become so ignorant to her feelings.

She mumbled something unintelligible before moving his arm from her and sliding towards the edge of the bed.

" Hey, where are you going?" he asked, attempting to pull her back.

" Bathroom," she said shortly, " I'm meeting Summer later."

" Can't you reschedule? I thought we could spend some more time in bed…" he said, still with that smile stretching his features, so that in her eyes, he looked all distorted.

" No, I promised her," she said, adding, " There'll be plenty of time for that later," using another of her fake smiles. She didn't think she could handle another night like last night.

In the bathroom, she splashed cold water on her face, looking at herself in the mirror. She was becoming a person that she recognised once more. The one she'd been before Alex. The mess, the screw-up. The alcoholic. Next thing she knew she was on her knees, violently throwing up. Her eyes looked vacant half the time, angry the other half. They matched her feelings. When her stomach had stopped churning, she rose unsteadily to her feet, gripping onto the sink for support.

She wished she didn't need to hold onto anything for support. If she fell now, no one would be here to catch her. She threw away all her chances to have someone who'd be there no matter how screwed up she'd become. First, by allowing Alex to walk away at the bonfire, and then letting her walk away a second time. The moments replayed in her head, Alex walking away from her over and over, and she never turned around once.

When she was ready, she left the bathroom. He was still there, sleeping heavily now. She walked across the room as quietly as she could, not wanting to deal with him again. The necklace was on the floor in front of her. The clasp must have come undone last night. She picked it up, putting it in her pocket. It made her feel closer to Alex, somehow. She wondered if Alex was still wearing hers.

When outside, she called Summer, asking her to come and pick her up. She had to act normally today. No more thinking about her. Summer picked up that something was wrong immediately, but Marissa insisted that she was fine, and she just wanted to spend time with Summer.

" Where's Ryan?" she asked.

Unable to lie to Summer, partly because she couldn't, partly because she would see right through her anyway, she replied, " Sleeping."

" At yours?" she asked, keeping her tone as neutral as she could.

" Yeah," said Marissa. Even though Summer couldn't see her, she ran a hand through her hair nervously.

Summer had decided to save the rest of the conversation until they were face to face. Marissa waited for her impatiently, worried that he would wake up and come looking for her.

Summer greeted her with a hug, pulling back to look at Marissa's face.

" So you want to explain what happened last night?" Summer had always been direct, so Marissa wasn't surprised by the question.

Her answer was hesitant, almost as if she wasn't entirely sure herself.

" He, uh…." She started, but unable to finish, she changed what she was originally intending to say.

" I had to."

" You had to?" asked Summer.

" You don't get it, do you?"

" No. That's why I'm asking you to tell me. Please?"

" If I pretend for long enough, then it won't be pretending any more," she said, staring at the ground. The pavement was cracked, like she imagined herself to be sometimes.

" You can't keep lying Marissa. It's not fair to you and it's not fair to Ryan."


	5. A Different Kind Of Lying

Part 5: A different kind of lying

" It's not lying, it's just..."

" Lying," said Summer.

" I never meant for this to happen. I never meant to fall in love with her," said Marissa tearfully. She was supposed to fall in love with him, and maybe she had been, once. But now that seemed like a different lifetime, and those feelings were disconnected from the person she was now.

" Do you love Ryan, even a little?" asked Summer.

" No," whispered Marissa.

" Then you can't keep doing this."

" I have to."

" You keep saying that, but I don't understand."

" If I stay with him long enough, then those feelings will come back. And maybe I'll stop thinking about her."

" You love her. You'll never stop thinking about her. She has a part of your heart, Coop. There's no changing that."

" I just want to stop thinking about her. It hurts, Sum."

" I know," said Summer, wrapping her arms around Marissa comfortingly.

" I never told her that I love her."

" I'm sure she knew," said Summer reassuringly.

" No, she didn't." She'd messed up again. Three little words. Funny how those words can leave you feeling so broken. Marissa thought that after love, came hate. But her feelings for him were indifference. For Alex, they remained as love. This wasn't the way it was supposed to be.

" Sum, I have to go."

" Where?"

" I don't know, I just want to be on my own for a while."

"Okay," said Summer worriedly.

" Don't look so concerned. I just need to clear my head a little."

She walked away; leaving Summer stood there, her face still clearly displaying concern.

The beach. Alex always seemed drawn to it. It made her think about Marissa. The beginning and the end. The end had left the beginning shattered, though, and sometimes it hurt more to think about that than it did to remember the bonfire. She sat down in the sand, tracing patterns with her fingertips. They always seemed to spell out her name. Even on the days where she was trying not to think about her.

Love wasn't supposed to hurt this way. She'd always been led to believe that. Just more lies that she'd heard. She had a photograph with her today. One of those times that they had been so happy. She kept staring at the picture, trying to work out what went wrong, but the image blurred, just like her memories. They were all faded around the edges, like they weren't supposed to be there. Maybe they weren't. They didn't fit, she'd told Marissa herself. So why did she feel like that was a lie? They'd been perfect together. But only from her point of view. She meant to tell Marissa that she loved her, but in retrospect, it was a good thing she didn't. She would have been crushed when she didn't say it back. Then again, it didn't matter. She was crushed now.

Summer entered Marissa's house, quietly so as not to disturb Ryan. She slowly opened the door to the bedroom, relieved to find he was still sleeping. Looking on the dresser, she found Marissa's cell phone, pocketing it before swiftly exiting.

Once away from the house, she took it out of her pocket, scrolling to Alex's name. The name was still there, but there was no number with it. Marissa seemed to be attempting to erase all traces of Alex.

Marissa found herself in that spot on the beach once again. Picking up the sand, and letting it run through her fingers, she thought about the way she had let Alex slip through her fingers, just as easily as the sand was doing now. Love was full of complications, and she had let those complications take over. She wished that things could be simple, like the way the earth rotated, no matter what. She wanted people to be that way, feeling the same way, no matter what.

All she had left was empty picture frames. She'd removed the photographs, placing them in a drawer with all the other parts of her life she hid away. It was meant to stop her from being reminded. But every time she looked at the picture frame, she'd imagine the photograph that had been inside it. A memory of a memory.

Sometimes Alex couldn't breathe for memories. They were in every part of her. She kept the photographs in their frames, because no matter how much it hurt, she needed her memories. Then there were the times that it felt as if they were suffocating her. Memories weren't made for choking on. The beach was doing nothing to help her think more positively. She kept thinking about Marissa, their first tentative kiss, and their last hug. That's what the beach was to her now: first kisses and last hugs. All the moments in between seemed insignificant in comparison. Those weren't the ones that were hurting her.

If you have a beginning, that implies that there must be an end. Nothing lasts forever, everyone knows that. She was naïve to think that her and Marissa would be different. Nothing would have made her happier than waking up every day with Marissa beside her. She'd never have the chance now. Why didn't she fight for Marissa? She just turned and walked away. Twice. She knew why, deep down. She always thought that if there were a fight, she'd be the one losing.

She was right, in the end. It was one of the few times where she didn't want to be. The world always seemed so backwards to her. It was like it was a mirror. The mirror image did exactly the opposite to what you did. Your desires were therefore always distorted. She wasn't thinking clearly today, her thoughts were tangling up with each other so that they didn't make sense. She had to work tonight. Another bar. Another thing to remind her of Marissa.

It was time she went home. The beach got too much, after a while. She needed to adjust, so that she could at least pretend to smile tonight. The customers were too cheerful, the lighting too harsh, the music too uplifting. It made Alex feel like she didn't belong. She had to pretend, though. When people asked her what sort of a week she'd had, she couldn't tell them that she felt like her heart had been ripped out of her chest. So she said she was fine, her week was great. All the lies that people use. Because no one is ever fine. They're people.

Marissa knew all about pretending. All about lying, too. She couldn't look at that photograph anymore. It was taken at the beach, right in this spot. Marissa's arms were looped around Alex's neck, and they were looking deeply into each other's eyes, smiling. It looked like they were in love. So why did they fall apart? Falling apart, for Marissa, meant that was lying was necessary. She wasn't allowed to fall apart, she couldn't make it obvious. So instead, she was in the midst of a lie, with him.

Alex was back in her bed, listening to Rachel Yamagata on repeat. She had never worked out why she felt the need to open old wounds this way. That concert, that was when she realised that she had fallen really hard for this girl, and there was no getting back up. Once she had fallen, she stayed fallen. Maybe people were destined to crawl on the floor, never being able to gain the strength to stand up again. That's what love seemed like, to Alex. It seemed like a weakness, rather than a strength right now. When she and Marissa were still together, though, it seemed like the best thing in the world.

He'd be wondering where she was. Later, his hands would be on her again, and she would let him. She'd let him tell her that he loved her, and she'd pretend she felt the same. She'd let his lips kiss her skin, and she'd pretend it meant something. And all the time, she'd be biting her lip to keep from screaming for Alex. Making do with a lie wasn't pleasant, but the thought of not having the comfort of those lies was terrifying.


	6. Holding Onto The Lies

Marissa woke up to him beside her again. This was getting so far out of control that sometimes she felt that her mind was disconnected from her body. It was like she was floating, watching herself from a distance. She didn't want to be this person. She realised that she'd been using people all her life. She didn't ever intend to discard them, but it happened anyway.

Maybe it was her. There had to be something wrong with her, otherwise why would this keep happening, over and over? She just kept hurting the people around her, and that would make her feel more pain. She tried to shut down, block everything out, but it just wouldn't happen.

He tried to pull her closer, in his sleep. In her head, she was pulling further and further away. She had to make this work. She allowed him to pull her into him, trying to block out her unwanted thoughts. She wished she would just start to feel normal again. This couldn't be normal, what she was feeling now.

Alex woke up tangled up with someone whose name she couldn't even remember. No matter who the girls were, or less often, the guys, they couldn't make her forget. Nothing could make her forget. Marissa's drinking habit had become her habit now. Life was ironic that way. She doubted Marissa needed that, not now she was happy with him.

She left the bed silently, leaving the room before the girl woke up. She hated the morning, waking up feeling ten times worse than she had the night before. She still did it though, even though she realised how it would make her feel the next day. She felt like she was betraying Marissa every time, even though she knew she shouldn't. It wasn't like Marissa felt that way when she was with Ryan.

Too many walks along the beach lately were playing with her head. She knew it would make her think of Marissa; she'd always be associated with the beach now. But it wasn't doing Alex any good, thinking about it. Regretting the things she'd never said. Marissa had never said them, either, but the truth was Alex had never expected it from her.

Now she was living an empty life, filled with nameless, faceless people who didn't lessen her hurt. She wanted to be living outside of her dreams. Dreams were the only place where she felt real. Strange how that is sometimes. Memories of empty promises would taunt her while she was awake.

"_I really wanted this to work between us."_

That wasn't the first time Marissa had said that to her. The first time was the night of their first kiss. Only then it hadn't been in the past tense. It hadn't been accompanied by tears, but by a smile. Alex thought she meant it; thought that she'd hold to that. She'd seen Marissa at the bonfire, glancing back, just once more, over her shoulder. She'd been with Ryan, and Alex had to turn away once more.

She had been surprised by the jealousy, back when she first began to see her with him; it was an unfamiliar feeling for her. It was also something she didn't react well to. She regretted that, maybe if she'd just waited, then the whole scene at the bonfire wouldn't have happened. Maybe she'd be happy now.

The more she thought about everything, the more she wanted to go back to Newport and demand answers from Marissa. Because what had happened just didn't make sense to her. They had been so happy, well she had at least, and Marissa seemed to be too. She couldn't keep going on like this, that much she knew. She needed closure, and the only place she was going to find it was with Marissa.

Marissa was at school, for the second time in two weeks. Whenever someone asked why she wasn't going, she couldn't answer them properly. Eventually, they'd stopped asking her. She hated being here. The questions about Alex, she hadn't been able to answer. They'd given up asking about that, too.

Ryan was still oblivious. He had to know something was off with their relationship, it was clear to everyone who saw them together. There was something lacking, and he was the only person who didn't appear to realise it. Marissa used to think that they were one of those couples who would always be together, no matter what. One of those couples who were meant to be. Then she met Alex, and all of those illusions were shattered with one glance. If she was "meant to be" with anybody it was Alex. Then it fell apart, and it left more than her illusions shattered this time. When she thought about the future, when the thoughts came to her unbidden, she still imagined Alex to be a part of it.

The future she wanted involved Alex in every sense of the word. She was starting to hate herself more for being such a coward. Her feelings had been cast aside, and for what? So she could be in a relationship that was more socially acceptable? That wasn't right. She wasn't supposed to care what people thought of her.

The number of times she had dialled Alex's number, to get scared at the last moment was rapidly increasing. She couldn't imagine that Alex would want to speak to her after the way she had treated her. She'd deleted the number from her phone, to make it feel as though she had done something to cut her off from Alex. The truth was, though, that the number was imprinted in her memory, just like every other little thing that was associated with Alex.

She thought about going to see Alex, sometimes. When the lies she had in place slipped away and the thoughts were going through her head no matter how much alcohol she consumed to try and stop them. She didn't know what she'd say to her. She wanted to say all the things she should have said, but she knew even if she did make it to Alex's, all she'd be able to do was freeze. She wouldn't be able to force all of those words out of her mouth, and Alex would turn away from her once again.

She'd been doodling absentmindedly on her notebook, the letters spelling out Alex's name, just like they always did. Noticing Summer glancing at the pages, she turned the ones with Alex's name on them over, the same way she tried to turn the thoughts of her away. She was living a lie, and right now, she felt powerless to stop it.

" Call her," said Summer, noticing Marissa's haste in turning over the pages of her notebook. Summer wasn't fooled.

" I can't," said Marissa, " she won't want to talk to me."

" Of course she will, Coop. You miss her. You can deny it all you want, but I know you. She made you happy, and I want to see you happy. Call her."

" I won't," said Marissa. " It's too late."

" It's never too late."

" We've both moved on."

" You know that's a lie. You told me yourself."

" She's moved on. She moved out of this town so she wouldn't see me anymore. When she came back, she didn't even tell me she was coming. She was just going to leave again, and I wouldn't have known she was here."

" The only thing she had to come back for was you. Think about that."

Marissa looked away. She didn't want to be encouraged to think about Alex. It only hurt her. She hadn't known what if felt like to have your heart ripped out of your chest until she woke up without Alex beside her. Now what was she doing? Pretending she didn't need her, and failing miserably. Her lies weren't even slightly believable, except to the people that so desperately wanted them to be true that they were ignoring all the things that were wrong with it. Like he was. And sometimes, she was too, desperately trying to cling to her lies.


	7. Losing The Lies

Part 7

Marissa dialled Alex's number for the 8th time in the past five minutes. Every time she got to the last number, she'd freeze. The same way she stopped in her tracks every time she thought of Alex, feeling overwhelmed. She was finally trying to do what she should have done the night Alex left. Trying, but not succeeding. She didn't think she could handle it if Alex rejected her. What if she had moved on? What if she'd found someone who actually deserved her?

Finally pressing that last button, having taken a deep breath to calm herself, she waited for the phone to ring. She was greeted with Alex's voicemail. Unable to bring herself to leave a message, having no idea of what she could say, she snapped the phone shut.

Alex was in Newport again. The first place she'd gone to was the beach, something seeming to draw her there. This wasn't closure, this was opening up old feelings even more. It wasn't what she came here for. She sat down in that spot, the one where this whole thing had started, officially at least. She'd been falling from the moment they met.

She watched the ocean, the tides being pulled one way or another, with no choice in the matter. That's how she felt about Marissa, like she pulled her towards her, no matter how she tried to resist. She didn't have any option but to return to Marissa. She thought Jodie had had a hold over her. That was before Marissa, and it was after that she learnt what someone having a hold over you really meant.

It was dark, the only light coming from what appeared to be a large distance. Alex liked the dark. It meant she could hide. She'd never needed to before. She had always been the one in the spotlight, but now she just wanted to stay in the dark, where she could create her own world and there was no light to show her that it wasn't real.

Marissa was lying in bed, the moonlight shining through the window, causing shadows to dance on the wall. She reached into the drawer beside her bed, pulling out the flask that she hadn't even glanced at during her time with Alex. Taking a long drink from it, she leaned back against her pillows.

She picked up her phone again. No, she wouldn't leave a drunken message on the answer phone. She thought about writing a letter, but she'd have nowhere to send it to. She wished she knew where Alex was, wondering if she was thinking of her too. Looking out at the clear night sky, she slowly stood up, and got dressed.

Wandering slightly unsteadily along the beach, the tears that were becoming so common running down her face again, she walked blindly towards her destination. Her eyes on the floor, she didn't notice that there was someone there until she crashed into them.

Alex had heard someone approach, but she ignored them in the hope she'd be left alone. She was surprised to find someone crash into her behind, and turned, to be met with Marissa's tearstained face. Not thinking about her actions, she drew her into a comforting embrace, unaware she was the source of Marissa's pain.

They stood there for a long time, not saying a word. Alex began to pull away from Marissa. What she had wanted to say to her could wait. Marissa resisted, trying to keep Alex close to her. Alex relented, letting herself be pulled back towards Marissa. She was already letting the girl break her heart all over again. When was it that she became such an emotional masochist? Her attempt at closure was really working out now, she thought to herself sarcastically.

Marissa pulled away, looking into Alex's eyes.

" I'm sorry," she said.

" No problem," replied Alex, waving it off.

Marissa shook her head, saying, "No, I'm sorry for what I did to you."

" I think we covered this already," said Alex, her words coming out a little harsher than she intended.

Marissa looked down for a second, and then raised her eyes to meet Alex's once more. Taking a deep breath, she reached for Alex's hands. Alex flinched, and pulled them away.

Marissa looked hurt. Alex looked away. She couldn't go through this again.

" I mean it, Alex."

Alex's eyes remained fixed on the ground.

" Please look at me," said Marissa, her words coming out as if she were choking on them. Alex raised her head, her eyes colder than Marissa ever remembered them being.

" I love you," she said, still looking into Alex's eyes.

Alex exhaled, she hadn't been aware she'd been holding her breath. Shutting her eyes, and then opening them to look at Marissa once more, she said quietly, " You couldn't have told me that before? Before you broke my heart? You can't do this, Marissa. You can't just tell me you love me and expect everything to be okay. It doesn't work like that."

" I know," said Marissa. " I know, okay? I need you, Alex."

" That's why you're with him, is it?" She refused to say his name. He had to be something that wasn't quite solid, so that his presence hurt her less.

" I don't want him. I want you."

" You had me. And you let me go. You went back to him, like I meant nothing to you. And now you tell me you love me, need me, want me?"

" Yes," said Marissa in a low tone.

" I know I hurt you. But, let me fix it. Please."

" I can't do it, Marissa. I can't do that over again. Sure, you want me now. But what about when you decide you want him again?"

" He's nothing to me," said Marissa, her eyes still pleading.

" And apparently I wasn't either. You can't fix it, Marissa. I don't even know if it can be fixed."

" Let me try. Don't walk away from me again, Alex."

Alex looked at her.

" This time, I'm sorry. But I just can't do it. I came here to ask you why you left me for him. So I would stop analysing it. But I'm really not seeing any answers, and I'm don't think you are either. I can't live like that, Marissa. When you're sure of what you want, and you're not drunk, then I'll listen to you again. But right now is not the time."

Alex turned and walked away from Marissa once more. What she wasn't expecting, however, was the hand pulling her back.

" No, Alex. I swore I wouldn't let you walk away from me again if I had another chance. We can take this slowly."

" I can't move back here, Marissa, not right now. When I say slowly, I mean really slowly. We start right at the beginning, no rushing into anything this time."

Marissa smiled, her first genuine smile since Alex had left.

" Whatever you want is fine with me."

Alex nodded. " Good. I should be getting back home," she said, " We can talk later."

" Okay," said Marissa, not showing the way she was feeling inside. Happy, but disappointed at the same time. She knew this was going to be hard; there was no perfect solution to fix people who have fallen apart. But she wanted to try.

Alex smiled weakly at Marissa before turning and walking back up the beach. This time, she was going to be sure. Before she got burned again.

Marissa followed Alex's footsteps in the sand a little while later. Her lies were falling apart around her, but she didn't care. She knew she would, in the harsh light of day, when she had sobered up, but right now she felt like she was floating.


	8. Rebuilding The Lies

Part 8: Rebuilding the lies (sorry, guys, I couldn't resist. Please don't hate me! By the way, you might want to skip over the lyrics. They suck, but I couldn't find a song to use. I apologise in advance.)

When Marissa finally woke up, the thoughts swimming around her head made her want to crash back against her pillows. How could she have been so stupid to lose control like that? She was setting Alex up for a fall, not herself. She was already at the lowest point she could have been. When would she learn how to treat this girl the way she deserved?

She'd let her guard down last night, on the beach. The details were hazy now, a side effect of her addiction, but she knew she shouldn't have been there. She should have been sleeping in his arms, she should have been happy with him. She shouldn't have been drinking away her pain. Especially not pain caused by a girl.

Alex wasn't just any girl, though. Marissa was drawn to her from the first time they met, like opposite poles of magnets. She never managed to separate where she ended and Alex began. That was why now she felt like part of her was missing. It had to stay missing, though, she told herself. That was the only way to divide herself from these feelings. From Alex.

_Addicted to this girl, I don't fit into her world, _

_Holding me together and pulling me apart_

_She's enigmatic, but over dramatic_

_But I love all of her and then some_

_Addicted to this girl, she doesn't know 'bout my world_

_Making me feel high, then I stumble and fall_

_She's complicated, over simplified,_

_But I want all of her and more_

_Addicted to this girl, who wanted us to work,_

_Making me smile, and then falter at her words_

_She's full of broken promises after all_

_But I don't care because I'm too far gone_

_Addicted to this girl, I'm never coming back_

_Made me get lost in her so I can't find my way_

_She's beautiful, and she's neurotic_

_She was never perfect, but she was mine._

Songs playing on the radio sometimes made Alex need to scream. People shouldn't be allowed to describe things that way. It would be so much easier if she couldn't relate to those songs. She was thinking about Marissa again. Alex never thought she'd find her in the state she'd found her in last night.

It made her hate Ryan even more. He had Marissa; he could make her happy. But he didn't. He let her drown herself in alcohol, and when she finally sunk under, he probably wouldn't even notice. He'd go on living his life, unconcerned. Alex remembered Marissa's words to her last night.

It wasn't the first time she'd said she loved her. The other time she'd been drunk, too. Alex didn't care, because she had so desperately wanted it to be true. When she'd whispered back that she loved her too, Marissa had smiled and pulled her closer, but the next morning, she couldn't remember anything. It was after that that Alex tried to avoid the two of them drinking too much together. That, and Marissa had clearly had a problem. She still had a problem now.

Alex wanted to make her better. She didn't want Marissa to be living that life. She wanted to make her happy, but she didn't know how. Marissa was complicated, and sometimes she was hard to read. When she smiled sometimes she didn't mean it, and Alex wanted her to mean it sincerely every time she smiled. She had tried to make her happy once, and she must have failed, because where were they now? He wasn't making her happy either, though, Alex reminded herself.

Maybe Marissa was searching for something that was just out of her reach, something neither Alex nor him could provide for her. Alex had never regretted anything more than not being able to make Marissa happy. It was all she had ever wanted from their relationship, and she hadn't succeeded.

She dragged herself out of bed, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror as she did so. She looked like hell, she thought. The dark circles under her eyes were rapidly becoming darker, giving her eyes a hollowed appearance. Her skin was pale from all the time she had spent locked in her room, her hair a tangled mess where she had spent the night tossing and turning, sleep eluding her.

She had to be at work in an hour, enduring the people asking her if she was okay. She'd never be okay again, she thought sometimes. She had promises to keep this time, but she didn't think they'd end up being worth anything. Marissa's drunken statements, confessions of need and declarations of love probably wouldn't mean anything to her in the morning. She'd be back in the real world, where there were only shades of black and white and the shades of grey had all disappeared.

Alex sometimes saw herself as a shade of grey. It was experimental; it was what you got if you mixed black and white together. Sometimes she felt like that was what Marissa had been doing with her, and then the experiment was over, and Marissa had decided she didn't like the shade she'd created.

It wasn't like Alex hadn't had girls who just wanted to experiment before. But those girls were disposable. They could be discarded; they could be irrelevant. Not Marissa, though. She didn't fit into that category. She didn't fit anywhere, because for Alex, what Marissa meant to her was indescribable. She really wasn't like the other girls. When Marissa had said that to her, all Alex could think was that it was incredibly accurate, at least in her eyes.

Alex walked along the streets towards her new workplace. They were quiet; it was early yet. The town she was living in now was small, the people grey and unwelcoming. It never rained here, but it seemed like it should. All the buildings were the same colour, blending into each other. She'd avoid the cracks in the pavement sometimes, wishing she could avoid other things so easily.

She planned on keeping her promise, she really did. But she didn't know what she would say. All methods of contact from a distance had always seemed so impersonal to Alex. She'd rather be looking into someone's eyes while she was talking to them, not reading between the lines when they wrote a letter or talked on the phone. She had to start somewhere, though. They had to start somewhere.

She pushed open the door of the club, greeted by an overenthusiastic co-worker. She wondered why, with all the unwelcoming people in the town, she ended up working with the ones that were constantly cheerful, talking endlessly. She'd rather deal with the ones that didn't speak to her. People speaking to her sometimes made her want to break down and tell them all about Marissa.

She told them the usual lies. She was fine; she'd had a good night. She was getting good at these lies, beginning to lose herself in them. The lines between the truth and lies became blurred sometimes, Alex herself not knowing how she was really feeling. She was constantly questioning herself recently.

Marissa wanted Alex to call, and at the same time, she didn't want her to. She was slowly reconstructing her lies, making an effort to pretend that last night hadn't happened. She knew that it would be fruitless if she heard Alex's voice, but she couldn't stop herself from trying anyway. She was sick of the lies, so she was building her own truth. It may have been a misguided one, but Marissa had never been good at dealing with her feelings.


	9. The Lies Begin To Crumble

The dial tone sounded harsh against Alex's ear as she contemplated whether she should call Marissa or not. What was she supposed to say to her? Deciding maybe she should just go with it, she dialled the number that she knew so well. It made her think of all the times she'd call Marissa, and fall asleep while talking to her on the phone. That was before Marissa had moved in, before things had got complicated.

Alex hated that word. She liked things to be simple, and readable. Marissa was neither of those things, which made Alex wonder why she had begun to feel so deeply for her so quickly. She was everything Alex had never wanted; yet everything she wanted at the same time. A contradiction, and Alex had never been a fan of those until her.

The phone rang, each ring seeming longer than the last. Alex let it continue for longer than she normally would have, hoping that eventually it would be picked up. It didn't happen, and she put the phone down slowly, the silence seeming odd to her ears. It was deafening, in that understated way that hurt so much.

This wasn't going to be easy, Alex knew that. But she never knew that it was going to be quite this hard. Their relationship had been easy, at the beginning. Right up until the end, in fact. Then it had been a little awkward, but Alex thought they could work through it. She never thought it would be the end. It made it harder for her, in that she hadn't really seen it coming, not until it was too late.

Marissa looked at the clock. Two hours until he'd be here. Two hours and she was regretting each minute that passed. 1 hour and 59 minutes until she'd have to pretend to be happy. 1 hour and 57, 56, 55…

She looked away from the clock, and back at the empty photo frames on her bedside table. Gritting her teeth, she looked away from them and raised her eyes to the ceiling, trying to relax. The more she tried, the tenser she became, her breathing laboured despite her lack of activity.

The phone rang, startling her from her thoughts. Knowing without even checking that it was her, she didn't move. The familiar paralysis was setting in again, and she was frozen on her bed, unable to reach out her arm and pick up the phone. The ringing persisted, each ring making Marissa feel guiltier for ignoring it. As she finally reached out a hand to pick it up, the ringing stopped suddenly. She sank back onto her bed. 1 hour and 45 minutes…

This count down was supposed to be an "I can't wait until he gets here." Wasn't that the way these things were supposed to be? Instead it was an "I'm dreading it more and more every second that it becomes closer, and I'll be counting down the moments 'til it's over." Marissa closed her eyes, slipping into her own world once more. Things there were always perfect, but then she'd open her eyes, the disappointment overbearing.

1 hour and 30 minutes, and she looked and felt like hell. It had been a day since she'd seen Alex, and she was missing her already. When Alex had touched her, it had made her feel like everything was going to be okay. He had protected her once, but he'd never made her feel safe the way that Alex did. The numbers on the alarm clock glowed, blinking as another minute passed. 1 hour and 29 minutes. Alex didn't leave a message, Marissa wondered why.

She shook the thoughts off. That didn't matter now. She had to pretend, for her sake and his. There was no way this was going to work otherwise. She thought he would always be her first love, and last love. Maybe he still held the title of first, but last would always belong to Alex, and Marissa was left wishing that it had been Alex that she met first. Maybe then they'd still be together now. What ifs were no good, Marissa had always hated them. They gave her the opportunity to analyse all of her bad choices, to think about all her regrets.

1 hour and 20 minutes. She should take a shower. She didn't want to move, the sheets somehow comforting to her. She pushed them back off of her, moving slowly to the bathroom. There, she looked in the mirror, her eyes critical. Alex had made her feel beautiful. He made her feel like she was only there for his pleasure, and beyond that, she was irrelevant. Maybe that was an unfair assessment of the situation, but she couldn't help the way he made her feel.

The water was cold when it was first switched on, the same as Marissa's skin. It had been cold ever since Alex had pulled out of their embrace at the beach, and now her touch seemed so far away, as if it were part of another lifetime. Marissa bit down hard on her lip to stop the threatening tears from spilling from her eyelids. Resting her head against the cold tiles, she breathed deeply, before looking up and practising her fake smile. It faltered, the same way Marissa faltered every time she thought of Alex. And every time she thought of him, even if it was in a different way.

She was ready, at least physically. Emotionally, she'd never be able to prepare herself for this. But she had to do it; she was determined to make it work. Without thinking about lost moments this time. She had to start living in the moment, even if it made her feel like she wasn't living at all, simply existing.

Marissa had always thought that existing and living were different things, and the only time she'd truly felt that she was living was during her time with Alex. It was no good reaching out for something that was gone, she told herself. Time to start living in the present.

She checked the clock again, the numbers adding to the low level of light in the room. Twenty minutes to go. Time to start living in the light again. She flicked the lamp on, the glow making her squint for a moment. She'd been spending so much time in the dark lately that light seemed too bright to her eyes.

15 minutes. He was early. The doorbell rang, and even though she knew she couldn't ignore it, for a moment she didn't move. At the door, he leaned in to kiss her, and she avoided his lips, so they landed on her cheek. He looked a little puzzled, but in his mind, waved it off. It couldn't be him; it must be something else.

" You weren't in school today," he said.

" Wasn't feeling well," she responded shortly. She turned and walked away from the door, not checking to see if he was following. She didn't return to her bedroom this time, the thought of his hands touching her sickening. They were too big, too rough, too forceful. They didn't fit with her own the way Alex's did. He was beginning to notice something wasn't quite right. That scared Marissa; it meant her lies were beginning to crumble around her.


	10. Pretending Everything Is OK

Even though he looked concerned, she didn't think the concern was about her. It was about what she could do for him, in some ways it always had been with him. She didn't understand how he could be her "safe" option and still make her feel like she was being pulled apart from the inside.

Being with Alex had been terrifying; not because of Alex, but because of the way Marissa had felt like she had no control over her feelings. She hated to feel that way, that's why she drank. Numbing those feelings, in a way, made her feel that she was controlling them. Eventually, though, it didn't work anymore. It was something she came used to feeling, and suddenly there wasn't a difference anymore. Everything blurred together, becoming part of the same thing.

She didn't like the way he was looking at her, like he was undressing her with his eyes. When Alex had looked at her like that she'd enjoyed the attention, craved it even. When he did it, she wanted to turn away from him, and never look back into those eyes. Even when he told her he loved her, his eyes still seemed so cold and empty to Marissa.

She was letting him touch her again, his hands even rougher than usual. His frustration was clear in his touch, but she didn't care. All she could think about was her, and the beach. What she was doing now wasn't right. It wasn't comforting like it should be. The discomfort that she was feeling went unnoticed. She had to stop this, but it seemed like she had forgotten how.

He was whispering into her ear now, the words blurring together so they didn't make sense, his voice sounding too harsh. Tears formed in her eyes, and she blinked them back, turning her head slightly so that he wouldn't see. He was pulling back to look at her now, his face questioning. She didn't have answers to any of his questions. She didn't even have answers to all of her own questions.

She shook her head slightly, forcing that smile onto her face, making sure her expression didn't slip into that grimace that she felt like making. She asked him what he had said, and her told her it wasn't important. He wasn't important. They weren't important.

Everyone used to think they'd always be this perfect couple, but Marissa had always lacked conviction, even at the beginning. He'd never been quite right, their relationship was never stable. She should have known there was no chance for them after the first time around. Now she was back for a second attempt, and all it was doing was reminding her of all the reasons that it shouldn't be happening.

She closed her eyes. She seemed to be doing that a lot lately when she was with him. It was almost as if, if she didn't have to look at him, his presence was further away. It made it easier for her to think about other things.

Alex was above her, smiling softly at her before biting her lip and pressing her weight down further. It felt like they fit together perfectly, their legs entangled with each other. Alex brushed a lock of hair away from Marissa's face, Marissa smiling at the gesture. She leaned up to press her lips gently against Alex's, the kiss deepening almost immediately.

His hands were tangled roughly in her hair, almost to the point of hurting her. His eyes drifted back to her face, her eyes shut, her breathing heavy. He smiled before moving back down her body, kissing from her neck towards her upper chest.

Alex's lips were soft against her neck, exploring every inch of her body, as if she were worshipping every part of it. Marissa tilted her head back, inhaling sharply at the feel of Alex's hot lips against her cool skin. Alex pulled back, offering her a brief smile before moving her hands further down Marissa's body, reaching for the button of her jeans.

His lips were too rough, the slight stubble on his chin from where she hadn't shaved in a while making her feel increasingly uncomfortable. His hands were moving quickly down her body towards to remove her skirt. He had never taken things slowly, and the pace he moved at only served to increase Marissa's hatred of these experiences.

Yet she still did it. She still let him come here, knowing what would happen. And after he left, she'd spent the night huddled in the corner, the empty bottles surrounding her. She'd try to drink it away, and she'd fall asleep only to dream of Alex.

The clothes being peeled away from her skin made her feel exposed. She didn't want to be that way with him. He was ignoring the fact that things weren't right. Maybe he thought if he ignored it, they could just carry on as they were. Maybe what they had now was enough for him.

She had to bite her lip hard to keep from calling out Alex's name as she gripped the sheets, hating her body for reacting to his touch. When he eventually drew away from her, she brought her finger to her lips, feeling the stickiness of fresh blood there. He made her feel like she was bleeding on the inside, now she had the blood on the outside to match.

He got dressed in the dark, kissing her goodbye quickly before leaving. He wasn't supposed to have been here tonight, and he'd had to leave. She felt used, but it didn't matter, since she was using him too. She couldn't seem to stop using him, in fact. She wished they'd never met. She wished she didn't have someone like him to hide behind. But no matter how much she wished, it was still true, and she didn't know how to stop this from spiralling out of control the way it was at the moment.

When her lies eventually completely fell apart, everyone would fall apart with them. That's what people did. They existed, and then they fell apart. All the lies did was delay it a little.

When Marissa returned from the bathroom, where she had spent hours trying to scrub the feel of him off of her skin, she saw the light on her phone blinking. There was a message on her machine. She pressed the button, half of her intensely hoping it was Alex, and the other half of her hoping that it wasn't. Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard Alex's voice.

"I called you earlier, but you obviously weren't here. I don't want you to think that I just said I would call and then I forgot about it.. I really want us to talk again, Rissa. I miss you."

The phone beeped again, signifying the end of the message. Alex sounded more nervous than Marissa had ever heard her. It didn't seem right to be hearing her speak, so unsure of herself. Marissa stared at the phone, before reaching out and replaying the message, letting Alex's words sink in.

Alex was also staring at her phone, willing it to ring. Maybe Marissa really had been too drunk to remember what she had said on the beach. Maybe she didn't want to talk to Alex after all. Alex hadn't known what to say when she had phoned earlier, and she couldn't say even half of what she had wanted to. Truth be told, she had wanted to tell Marissa that she loved her too, but she knew it was neither the right time nor the right way to do so.

She sighed deeply, flicking the light switch off as she slammed the front door behind her, heading for the beach. She was becoming pathetic, she thought to herself, staring at the phone and waiting for Marissa to phone. Even from miles away, Marissa still had an amazingly powerful influence on Alex's actions.

Ever since their talk at the beach, Alex had been torn. One half of her, the half of her that had believed it before, wanted to believe every word that Marissa had said. The other half of her kept reminding her that Marissa had said all those things before, and it hadn't worked out that time, so why should it work out this time?

She hadn't gone home with anybody since, though, having become more hopeful that Marissa would want her back. Even if it was only a tiny bit of hope, it was more than Alex had had before, and now she was clinging to it as if her life depended on it. In some ways it did.

Marissa pulled the duvet over her head, in a superficial attempt to block out the world. Her phone seemed to be taunting her as the light kept flashing. She hadn't deleted Alex's message, needing to hear her voice again. She fell into an uneasy sleep thinking of Alex's words and imagining Alex's touch. She had to replace his touch on her skin somehow, and the long showers weren't enough.

When Alex reached the beach, she sat down, closer to the sea than she usually sat. She watched as the waves crashed against the rocks further out, and lay down in the sand, looking at the stars outlined in the sky above her. The night was clear, like it always was here. Here was where she came in search of a little clarity. She was beginning to think she'd never find it, because this place allowed her to think, and thinking always made things murkier, not clearer. Drawing her knees up to her chin, she sat there like that until the sun rose in the sky, and then she stood up and walked away. She felt calmer now, like she had hoped she would.

Marissa woke up, her tension apparent in every part of her body. She closed her eyes again. She couldn't face going outside today. Her lies were more stable when she didn't have to go anywhere or see anyone. She needed something stable, and the fact that it happened to be her lies made her want to forget all about stability, but she couldn't.


	11. Lovers With Broken Hearts

She was my saviour and the person that finally broke me all wrapped into one,

She was the one I'd always been waiting for but never wanted to come

She didn't hesitate to make me fall and then break my heart

The crazy thing is that even with my broken heart I still love her

She was the person that I thought I could never have, but wanted anyway,

She was the one I'd always been searching for but never wanted to find

But when she took my hand, she took my heart and broke it into two

The crazy thing is that even with my broken heart I still love her

She was the one who was so good for me, and bad at the same time

She was the one I'd always been hoping for, but never thought was real

When she kissed me on my lips I couldn't help but fall even harder

The crazy thing is that even with my broken heart I still love her

When I walked away from her lies I couldn't look back to see her move on

She was the one who let me turn away from her, but I didn't want her to

She didn't hesitate to make me fall and then break my heart

The crazy thing is even with my broken heart I still love her

Alex was still sleeping restlessly, her thoughts distracting, and painful like shards of broken glass. She found that an apt description of the way she felt, since it was like she had been shattered into pieces. She didn't realise that this kind of pain could be worse than physical pain until now. It was times like these when she missed Marissa the most, when she couldn't sleep. She slipped in and out of consciousness, and that was when her thoughts were at their least censored.

She slipped out of bed, walking into the bathroom and splashing cold water on her face. The contrast of the cold water against her hot skin made her wince, but she did it again because it made her feel more alive, somehow. Then the feeling faded away, and all she was left with was the numb pain she had been feeling ever since she came here.

She looked in the mirror, droplets of water clinging to her skin so that it seemed even paler in the dim light of the bathroom. She was beginning to hate the reflection staring out at her from the mirror. It reminded her of how she couldn't smile. She looked tired, and she knew it was because she hadn't been sleeping.

Closing her eyes and breathing in deeply, she reached for the light switch. She was standing in the dark again, but she'd been feeling like she was standing in the dark ever since she'd left. She thought, at the beach the other day, that there might be a chance for some light, but now she wasn't so sure. Marissa didn't follow through on what she said a lot of the time, Alex knew that. But she had never expected it to be something to do with her that Marissa wasn't following through with her.

She cursed her naivety. How could she have thought that this wouldn't fall to pieces sometime? It always did with her. How many more times would she have to go through this before she realised that it didn't ever get any better? It just hurt more and more each time, with each different person. Alex didn't want there to be someone else, ever. She just wanted what she and Marissa had had back.

She walked back into the bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed with her head in her hands. It seemed the emotional pain she was feeling was manifesting itself physically, because her head hadn't stopped hurting in weeks. She lay down to sleep for the third time that night, her eyes being drawn to the phone again like it was a magnet, and she was metal. Of course it didn't ring. Marissa had probably gone back to her life with Ryan, pretending that she hadn't said any of those things that she had said. Pretending that they felt nothing for each other, and that she was in love with him.

The thought that he could touch her, and she couldn't made Alex feel sick. The thought had been taunting her for a long time, and she just couldn't shake it off. Somehow, she still thought of Marissa as "hers", even though they weren't together anymore.

Marissa was trying to work up the courage to say everything she needed to say, but all that was happening was that her eyes were drawn to the half empty bottle of vodka on her bedside table. Fake courage. It was the only kind that Marissa had ever had. She couldn't say it drunkenly, or it wouldn't be taken seriously. She couldn't say it sober because she just couldn't work up the nerve to do it.

She was counting down the seconds until he got here, and she wished she could slow time down. In fact, while she was thinking about the way that time worked, she was wishing she could just turn it back, to before all of this. To when she was happy, for the first time in her life. Before she threw it all away. Now all she could do was curse her stupidity. How could she have thought that she could make something work?

The door opened slowly, and he came through it, smiling. The smile faltered slightly when he saw the expression on her face, and the bottle of vodka next to her, but he quickly shook it off. He moved to greet her, but they were interrupted by the doorbell. Telling him to wait there, she went to answer it.

She came back a few minutes later, explaining that a lost person had been looking for directions, and then, biting her lip nervously, told him that she needed him to talk to him. His expression was unreadable.

" I can't do this anymore," she told him. " It isn't right."

" It feels right to me," he said, moving over to take her in his arms and whispering in her ear that he loved her.

She pulled away from his strong grasp, and shook her head.

" No, it doesn't. We both know it, Ryan."

" It's about her, isn't it?"

Marissa looked shocked, and began to shake her head. That was a step too far for her right now.

" Don't lie to me, Marissa. Her voice is on your machine, and from the way it crackles when you listen to it, you've been listening to it a hell of a lot lately." His voice was becoming louder and louder, as anger became the dominant emotion in his eyes.

Marissa opened her mouth. She was going to make excuses again, the same way she'd been doing with him all along.

He cut her off, holding up his hands.

" Don't, Marissa. Just…don't," he said.

He looked down at the floor, seeming to think very carefully about what he said next. The careless comment he threw out next made Marissa think again, though.

" I can make you forget about her," he said, moving closer to her again.

For a second, she let him, before pushing him away violently.

" No, you can't," she told him as he stumbled back.

She opened the door, indicating that he should leave. He left, slamming the door behind him.


	12. Imperfections Cut Like A Sword

A/N- Lyrics don't belong to me, they're KT Tunstall's. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, it's really appreciated.

The intense relief Marissa felt at his departure shocked her a little. She had expected to fall apart as soon as that door had slammed behind him, to tell the truth. She didn't though, the intense relief soon being replaced by numbness. She knew she'd be panicking over this later, that if he offered to make it better she wouldn't know how to refuse, even though she knew things would only get worse.

She'd never been good at following her heart. She'd always gone with what her head told her would hurt the least. Every time, it was wrong. She was sick of making the wrong decision all the time, and she hated herself for being so weak. Maybe she wouldn't have ruined the best thing that had ever happened to her if she could have been stronger. Maybe if she didn't let her thoughts turn against her, and she wasn't so scared all the time, she could still have that now.

What ifs were no good, though. She wasn't supposed to think about them, because all that did was highlight the regrets she had. She didn't like to be reminded that she was a failure. It was as if she couldn't control it, though, because the thoughts kept on coming. And hurting.

You say you feel like a natural person  
You haven't got nothing to hide  
So why do you feel imperfection  
Cut like a sword in your side

The verse of that song made Marissa wonder how musicians could sometimes so accurately describe what she was feeling. Imperfections weren't made for people like her, that's how she'd always been made to feel, anyway. Deep down, she knew that was wrong, that nobody could possibly be perfect. The people that said that always failed to mention that everybody wants to be perfect. They never can, and if they fail to realise that, they spend their lives striving for something that was only ever an illusion. Nothing was ever perfect, and especially not her.

She'd always felt that Alex was perfect, though; even if she knew the only reason for that was that she could skip over the little imperfections. She didn't need to see them, because they were irrelevant to the way Marissa felt about her. Alex had always made her feel, too, that she was a little closer to being everything she should be, without words. Just by being with her, Marissa felt that Alex made her feel as if she was worth something, as if even her flaws were beautiful. She wanted to feel that way again, and she wanted to make Alex feel that way. Because when she thought about her own idea of perfection, she thought about her and Alex together.

Ryan would be back, she knew. He'd tell her that everything would be alright, that he didn't care about Alex, that there must be something else making her feel this way. He'd tell her that she didn't really have any feelings for Alex, that she was just confused. And she knew, that when he said all of those words to her, she wouldn't know what to say in response. Then he'd think that she agreed with him, and what way did she have to stop him? She told him once, and that wouldn't be enough for him to accept it, but she knew she wouldn't be able to tell him again. Dreading the next time she saw him, she lay down to try and get some sleep, before she woke up panicking. The safety net was gone now, and she had to try her hardest to not let anything get in her way again.

After lying there for a while, her eyes wide open, her body refusing to relax, she sat up again. She felt so exposed now. There was nothing to hide her feelings behind, and that terrified her, just like she had known it would. Fear was what had been holding her back all this time, and it would continue to hold her back. It was something she'd never been able to cope with. She needed to feel safe. The funny thing was, it was her feelings she was trying to keep herself safe from. There was no reason to do that anymore. She should finally be able to take the actions she wanted to.

Should. She hated that word sometimes. It was so sure, and uncertain at the same time. The way she felt about that word, and what came attached to it, reminded her of the way she felt about herself. A contradiction. Just because people should be able to do something, didn't mean they actually would be able to do it when the time came to try. Marissa knew she was one of those people who couldn't do the things she should be able to do. Telling someone how you felt about them wasn't supposed to be this hard. Yet she couldn't do it, not without her smokescreen. The haze that was created by alcohol, and even when the alcohol wore off, the haze still lingered a little. Not enough for her to be honest, though.

Honesty. She hated that word even more. The amount of times she had failed to be honest were just increasing. How was she supposed to be honest with other people if she couldn't even be honest with herself? Her life was made of lies, and the reason for that was that she couldn't handle feeling real. She'd rather feel like she was watching herself from a distance, almost like there were two different people. And then she'd wonder why it hurt so much if it wasn't even her true self living that life, and she'd be back to where she started. Stripped of her lies, and rebuilding different ones. They were supposed to protect her, and she couldn't quite understand when they didn't.

Love without honesty didn't work for Marissa. And it was even more of a problem for Alex. They fell apart, the way people in two different places do, because they weren't honest with each other, after the beginning. At the end, all that was left were comforting words that didn't offer any comfort at all, feeling buried under all the lies and confusion. So she'd never lied to Alex exactly, but she wasn't honest either. It was just another thing for Marissa to add to her long list of regrets.

She wasn't the only one with regrets. Every day Alex would think about how she shouldn't have walked away that day, how she should have fought. It's what she had always done before. That time wasn't about her, however. It was never about her, it was about what she thought would make Marissa happy. Now, knowing that it wasn't the right thing to do, sometimes she would regret sacrificing her own happiness to give Marissa what she wanted. If she had stayed, then she could have seen what was happening, she could have stopped these feelings before they took hold of her and refused to let go.

She'd been awakened by yet another nightmare, jolting her from her sleep. She lay back down as her body calmed down from the adrenaline rush that the fear of the dream had given her. She never used to get nightmares. She used to be able to sleep through the night without being tortured by her dreams. She guessed that she had a lot of repressed feelings to sort through, and they were expressing themselves in her dreams. She'd rather deal with them when she was awake, she thought, judging by how bad the dreams were getting.

You're under the weather  
just like the world  
and I need somebody to hold  
when I turn out the light  
you're out of sight…

The rest of the lyrics to the song bled together as Alex focused on one line. All she needed was somebody to hold, and that somebody had to be Marissa. Maybe that wouldn't make everything better, but it would be a start. It would lift this constant dark cloud from her, and make her feel like she could think clearly once again. She couldn't pretend that she didn't need Marissa. She couldn't keep pretending that everything would be fine, and that if it were meant to be, everything would fall into place by itself. Life couldn't be that simple, you had to give things a push in the right direction first. And Alex wasn't doing enough. She was sick of feeling this way, and she had to do something about it.

She didn't know how. She didn't know how she could make Marissa see that what was happening now was bad for both of them, that it should never have come to this. Marissa's denial would be hard for Alex to break down, and in some ways, she didn't want to try. She'd never been so terrified of getting hurt. Getting hurt wasn't for people like her. She was supposed to be strong, and even when she was left with a dull ache in her chest, she was supposed to pretend that there was nothing wrong. Marissa had broken down those defences, though, and while that should, to some degree, be a good thing, all Alex felt was that it should never have happened. She knew what happened when she opened up to people and let them in, and she had done it anyway. It made her feel weak.

She had to go back to Newport again. Trying to talk to Marissa over the phone wasn't the right way to do this. But Alex wasn't sure she could handle a repeat of last time. She wasn't sure that she could handle any of this, but she couldn't sit around and wallow in self-pity anymore. She had walked away, and now she could walk back. It couldn't be that hard.


	13. Broken Guitar Strings To Match

Marissa held a pillow over her head trying to block out the sound of someone hammering on the door. She knew it was him, and she was scared that if she let him in literally, it would be like letting him in figuratively too. She knew, however, that she was going to have to talk to him eventually. She felt like she owed him an explanation, somehow, which was stupid, because she couldn't even explain herself in her head. The thought of expressing those thoughts to him made her head hurt.

He wasn't giving up, the knocking continuing, becoming louder. She would never have thought he'd be the type to beg, but the words currently spilling from his mouth made her rethink that theory. Removing the pillow from her head, and wincing at how loud he sounded away from that comfort, she threw it away from her. Frustration had overtaken the intense depression she'd been feeling lately, and the pillow wasn't the first object to be thrown across the room.

He was refusing to leave until she spoke to him. She couldn't help but tell him that he'd be waiting there for a long time, because she simply didn't want to speak to him. He told her she was lucky that he was there, that he was able to forgive her. She said she hadn't done anything wrong, the number of lies she had now told increasing by one more. She'd been wrong, but so had he. Two wrongs can't make a right, and maybe that's why she and him didn't, couldn't, work together.

Now the phone was ringing, and he was still waiting, and all she wanted to do was scream. She wanted to scream at him, and let him know about all the times that she had pictured Alex's face while she had been with him. She wanted him to hurt the way she did, because that way she wouldn't be the only one. She wasn't low enough to follow through on those thoughts. Maybe, another time, she would have. She would have been selfish. She wouldn't have considered his feelings for a second. But now she knew how easy it could be for one person to break you. A few muttered words, meaningless words, and you're left broken.

Sometimes, it felt as if Marissa had spent half her life crying, and she still didn't know why. Her feelings of happiness had always been overshadowed by sadness, and it didn't make sense to her. It wasn't that she had a horrible life, she didn't at all, but there was something that held her back from enjoying it the way she should. Alex had helped her to see that, and now she needed her more than ever, and she wasn't here. The fact that it was her fault that Alex wasn't here was the foremost thought in her mind, and right now, it hurt so much that she was having trouble breathing.

Then there was silence. It was absolute, and Marissa felt like she could be crushed under the weight of it. The noise had made her angry, frustrated, but the silence was far more powerful. She'd always thought that words were heavy. They were the ones that hurt. But sometimes, silence hurt too.

Summer was usually Alex's favourite season. But this summer, without Marissa had made Alex long for autumn days when the wind blowing would make the silence seem less significant, to give it volume somehow. Nothing made sense in her world anymore. She couldn't help but feel that, even though she knew that the world hadn't really changed. Maybe she had changed. It should have been for the better, but here she was at one of the lowest points she had ever been.

Alex wanted the world to go back to being logical, the way it was when she was too young to see its flaws. Her flaws. When you're young and people tell you you're perfect, you don't even think to question it. It just is. And you think that's the way it will always be. Alex did. Until she didn't. And then the world wasn't perfect, and she wasn't perfect, but damn it she'd thought that her and Marissa were perfect. Until she couldn't anymore.

There was a broken string on her favourite guitar, and she didn't even try to fix it. When she tried to play, the music didn't come out right, her fingers slipped awkwardly on the frets and she tried to remember a time when music alone could comfort her. Now she didn't even have the feelings to create the music, craving her instead. Songs that she'd written, hidden in a box, love that she'd hidden, written on pink paper. She'd never liked pink before Marissa. There were a lot of things she wasn't before Marissa.

She was stronger, somehow. She had control over her feelings, at least, and that was practically the same thing. Now she didn't know what to do most of the time, and when her head was free of the clouds that had been surrounding her, she couldn't do anything but give into the overwhelming urge to sleep, hoping that when she woke up she would be okay. That her thoughts would have magically cleared and she wouldn't have to think about things she didn't want to. People she didn't want to think about. It never happened the way she wanted it to.

She was determined to change that. It was time for a new start. Her head was telling her that much, but she didn't want to get her heart fixed and broken all at the same time. That was what she was afraid of, but right now, there was a voice in her head telling her that she should just take a chance. That she might never get one if she just let it go. She couldn't let this go, couldn't let her go. It was up to her to change things now. Then maybe they really could be perfect together, without having their dreams shattered.


	14. Replacing The Photos In Their Frames

Chapter 2: Part 4: Replacing The Photographs In Their Frames

He was gone, and for the first time in a long time, Marissa smiled. A genuine smile, her expression filled with a new hope. This was her chance for a new start; she wasn't going to screw it up this time. Now way. This was it, and it would be the end. Their happy ending. Without that ending, she'd have nothing. She had to make it work. There was nothing in her way now.  
All she had to do now was to convince Alex that they could get back what they used to have. No, that's not what she wanted. She wanted them to be even better than that, and she knew that they could be. She was aware that nothing could be perfect, but she was certain that they could be almost perfect, and that was good enough for her. She just hoped that it was good enough for Alex. It had to be, because there was no way she was giving up on this before she'd even started to make everything better.  
It was going to be hard; she realised that. But it was worth it. Alex was worth it, and she always would be. Marissa wished that she could have seen it before, and she wouldn't have been in this position now. Now was not the time for what ifs, however. It was time to sort her life out.  
The first thing that would have to go, well aside from him, that is, was the alcohol hidden in her drawer. She moved over to the chest of drawers now, opening the bottom drawer, and taking out the almost empty bottle, as well as an unopened one. She took them into the bathroom, resisting, with difficulty, taking a long drink from the bottle. She poured the contents into the sink, watching the liquid swirl around the plughole, finally feeling free. Although it had been her comfort for a long time, it had trapped her at the same time. She was unbelievably glad to finally be free of it, but she knew that just because she had managed to pour the contents of those bottles away, it didn't mean she'd always be able to do it. This wasn't the end of her problems, but she knew that once she had Alex to help her, everything would seem so much easier. It didn't matter how long it took. She rethought that. It did. She wanted everything to be going her way right now, but she knew that was impossible. She had to think about Alex too, and Alex had wanted to take things slowly.  
She didn't know what she was going to say to Alex, how to explain that she'd been freaking out ever since that night they talked, and that she had wanted to speak to her, but she just couldn't. She'd think about that when the time came, it was no use worrying about it now. Besides, last time she had freaked out over her relationship with Alex, Alex had known. Maybe she would realise this time too.  
As Marissa walked back through the doorway separating her bedroom and the bathroom, she noticed that she had left the bottom drawer open. She crouched down to shut it, but as she did, she noticed the white corner of a photograph, upside down, sticking out. She turned it over, picking it up. It was her favourite picture of her and Alex. Staring at it for a while, a contemplative expression on her face, she moved to put it back into the drawer, but changed her mind, picking up one of the empty frames on her bedside table.  
It was time that she put the photographs back into the frame, and stopped pretending to herself that they didn't mean anything to her. She touched Alex's face lightly, her finger leaving a slight mark on the photograph. She placed the photograph back in its frame, hoping that soon Alex would also be back in her rightful place.  
She wanted to call her right now, maybe beg her for forgiveness. Outside it was dark, and it was too late for disturbing Alex. Besides that, she really didn't know what to say. She switched the light on, determined not to hide away in the dark anymore. She wasn't going to get any sleep tonight, she realised. She had too much to think about.

Alex was sleeping peacefully for the first time in weeks, the images in her dreams finally turning from those she classed as nightmares to something close to happiness. She had made her decision now, and she wasn't going to change her mind. No more staring at the phone, waiting for it to ring. No, in the morning, she would pick it up herself. If nothing came of it, at least she would know that she tried.  
So she had gone to bed, thinking about making things right, she had been so tired of thinking about all the bad things, and all the good things she could have remembered seemed to have been lost somewhere. In the morning, no matter what she was feeling, she was dialling that number, and she was not going to put that phone down before it had a chance to ring. Not this time.  
She woke a few hours later, the only light in the room coming from a crack in the curtains, her eyes adjusting slowly to the grey colour they were met by. She rolled over, looking at her clock. 4AM. It was too early to make that phone call. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes; there was no point in trying to sleep again. She moved to the edge of the bed, somehow tangling herself in the sheets in the process, so that she fell to the floor with a thud. She grimaced, rubbing her head where she had hit it on the side of the bed, before laughing lightly at her clumsiness. She felt so much lighter than she had a few days ago. It was amazing how a change in her thought process had made her feel so much better. She was thinking more positively now.  
Maybe a phone call wasn't enough. Maybe another visit to Newport would be better. If she left now, she could get there fairly quickly. There wouldn't be a lot of traffic on the roads at this time of night. Yeah, face-to-face would be so much better than having this conversation over the phone, thought Alex, grabbing her clothes quickly and heading to the bathroom.

In Newport, Marissa woke in the dark, surprised that she had fallen asleep. She stretched out her arms from their awkward position, noticing that one of her photos was still clutched in her left hand. She must have fallen asleep while looking at it. It was the last one she had that had been removed from its frame, and she stood up stiffly from where she had been resting against her drawers, finally replacing it in its frame.  
She lay back against her pillows, looking at the clock as she did so. 4.02 AM. Still too early to call Alex. She slowly returned to sleeping, a sheet of blue paper filled with Alex's handwriting underneath her pillow.


End file.
